Not Invisible, Not Silent, I'm Still Here
by Resha04
Summary: He will not get down without a fight


**Song : I'm Still Here (Jim's Theme) **from **Disney's Treasure Planet**

**I do not own Hetalia nor the song**

* * *

><p><strong><em>I am the question to the world<em>**

**_Not an answer to be heard_**

**_Or a moment that's held in your arms_**

Why does he still exist? That's a question even he himself didn't know the answer to. Although they didn't say it out loud, he knew his fellow nations were all thinking the same. Not only them, his superior as well.

He was an anomaly, just like the nation that was once called Prussia. Hell, Romano didn't want to think about him and that second potato bastard being in the same position, but it was the fact. The difference was Prussia didn't care that his existence itself was a big question. Romano cared, even though he didn't show it.

Why does he still exist? He had to admit, that when the unification took place, he had braced himself and held his breath, waiting for the moment he would disappear. But he hadn't, and he didn't. Maybe he would never disappear, but who knows?

Everyday he woke up and felt his fingers, his hands, down to his legs, and he sighed in relief inwardly. He wouldn't deny that the fear of vanishing had haunted him for centuries, and it didn't stop even now. Every night when he climbed up to his bed, he wouldn't close his eyes just yet. He would inhale the faint smell of trees outside his room and listen to the chirping of the nightingale for a moment, feel the softness of his pillow and the warmth of his blanket, and the familiar smell of tomato sauce that came from his sleeping brother next to him. He did that ritual every night, afraid and not at the same time that he might wouldn't be able to live through the next morning.

/

**_And what do you think you'd ever say_**

**_I won't listen anyway_**

**_You don't know me, and I'll never be what you want me to be_**

"Is this fucking work ever fucking finished or what?" Romano threw his arms back in exasperation, successfully stretched his sore back and earned a relieving pop sound of his backbone. He flexed his sore fingers from holding the pen all day and took a glance at another stacks of paper stacked neatly on the other table. He groaned, turning his head to tell his brother to just stop for today, only to see the younger Italian was already asleep, head laid on his folded arms, drool seeped from his half-opened mouth.

Romano almost hit him on the head with his pen, but restrained himself. Veneziano had it as hard as him today. They attacked the paper works since the morning and now it was nearly midnight. They only paused for restroom and lunch, with dinner only consisted of gelato. Veneziano didn't even whine as much as usual, given the fact that most of his energy was used for work.

Sighing, the older Italian rose from his seat and exited the room. He needed to go to the restroom. But he paused when he passed by his superior's room, hearing low voices from inside. He wasn't an eavesdropper, but upon hearing 'South Italy' from inside, he was curious. So he decided to listen. Standing beside the door, he concentrated on the voices inside.

"I don't know what use we can gain from him. I don't even know why he still exists. What I mean is, Italy is unified now. No longer north and south. So why does he still here?"

"I don't have any idea either, sir. Maybe it's because there's still difference between north side and south side?"

"That might be true. But it's really troublesome, to have two personifications of one nation. I have to think about both north and south problems and economics. If only there's only one, it won't be this complicated. I only have to worry about one nation problems."

"If I may know, what are you implying, sir?"

"We don't need two Italies. It's only one of them who's even called Italy. We need to truly unite this country. And I believe that is to dissolve the one that's called South Italy."

"But sir, I heard that a personification of a nation exists because his people's spirit and his government still do. Do you truly think that to 'dissolve' South Italy is a solution?"

"The existence of the personification is a question itself. We don't know how they were born, how they exist, and how they live. We can't know for sure that the reverse can't happen."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Romano didn't even know why he still stayed on his spot, when his fate was, what they could say, sealed.

"Are you really sure, sir?"

"I am. Even you can see that there's an invisible wall between north and south of Italy. If we unify Italy, truly unify it, it's highly possible that it will disappear. We don't need North Italy and South Italy. We only need one Italy."

When he was back in his work room, Veneziano was still asleep, face peaceful and lips almost curved into a smile. Romano spread a blanket on top of him and sat back on his own desk. He stared at the mountains of paper, before uncapped his pen and started working again, fiercer and more determined.

/

**_And what do you think you'd understand_**

**_I'm a boy, no, I'm a man_**

**_You can't take me and throw me away_**

It was the same even from long ago. People didn't need two personifications of one nations.

He was born first, when the city was first called Rome. So Grandpa Rome named him Romano. Because he was the personification that born from Roman Empire's Rome, he inherited his Grandpa's brashness and rash attitude. Grandpa had called him his grandson, taught him how to hold a sword, taught him about war and soldiers and strategies, and patted his shoulder to encourage him.

Veneziano was born after him, when Grandpa conquered more areas. Grandpa had grown softer inside that time, and so like the beautiful country he had built, he named him Italy. Veneziano was added after that, after the beautiful city in the very country. Grandpa had called him his grandson, taught him art, how to hold a brush, how to paint, how to think of a new piece, and smiled to him. He inherited Grandpa's gentleness and affectionate attitude. And so Grandpa, who had grown tired of all those wars, loved him more. Italy smiled and laughed and asked for hugs and kisses and was innocent, while Romano yelled and scowled and hated to be touched and was fierce.

Grandpa Rome never called him _Italy _Romano, but always called Veneziano _Italy_.

It was made clear that day. Grandpa didn't need two grandsons just as much as he didn't need any more wars. People didn't need two Italies and government didn't need two personifications of Italy. They fit the harsher and more threatening South Italy to war, and the softer and unwilling North Italy to peace.

They only needed him when time of war came, and it had been over long ago.

/

**_And how can you learn what's never shown_**

**_Yeah, you stand here on your own_**

**_They don't know me_**

**'_Cuz I'm not here_**

Veneziano didn't need to know. Spain didn't need to know. No one needed to know. That as much as his brother, he despised war. He wanted to be loved, he wanted someone to be proud of him and have hopes in him.

But they also didn't need to know that he had stopped wishing for those. Why make your life more miserable by wishing for things that you might never get? But if they thought that along with his wish he had stopped fighting, they were wrong.

Because Italy Romano never stopped fighting. He might stop for a while and take a rest and maybe fall down, but he would stand up again and continue. He fought for himself. Because he was assured that his brother and Spain would be fine if he wasn't there. His superior would and his people might. And the world surely would just be fine. That was why he fought. To show the world that they couldn't make him get down that easily.

/

**_And I want a moment to be real_**

**_Wanna touch things I don't feel_**

**_Wanna hold on and feel I belong_**

**_And how can the world want me to change_**

**_They're the ones that stay the same_**

**_They don't know me_**

**'_Cuz I'm not here_**

He woke up that morning and felt weird. He took time to do his rituals and was relieved that he could still feel his body. He sat up, and saw that his brother was still asleep beside him. Damn Veneziano and his damn heavy-sleeper attitude. They had work that day and they couldn't waste any more time. Besides, that was March 17th and even though he didn't want to admit it, he wanted to spend breakfast with his brother, before they dived into their work and were drowned by it later that day.

But he almost wanted to laugh, that ironically, just like what happen in cheesy movies, his birthday was the very same day that might be his last. He touched his brother's shoulder to shake him awake only to see right through his hand. Romano only stared.

After a moment passed, he swung his legs off the bed and got dressed. He left into the kitchen and started making breakfast. Fuck his birthday.

/

**_And you see the things they never see_**

**_All you wanted I can be_**

_**Now you know me and I'm not afraid**_

Spain visited him later that day, and he willingly (though he wouldn't admit it) left his piled up work for a moment, Veneziano smiled so wide and told him not to worry, he would work for his part until he was back, and waved him goodbye. Romano opened his mouth to protest, but the younger Italian said that he could pay him back when Germany and Japan came to visit that night. Ignoring his curses and yells that he didn't say the potato bastard could come, Veneziano pushed him gently but forcefully out of the room into Spain and waved cheerfully to them, before quickly closing the door, effectively shielding himself from a boot thrown at him.

When they were finally on their own, Spain looked at him, studying him.

"What the fuck, bastard?"

His former boss frowned, apparently worried. "Romano, what happened?"

"What the fuck do you mean?"

Spain placed his hands on his arms and squeezed them gently. "You know what I mean. I can see right through you, literally."

The smaller man scowled and crossed his arms in front of his chest, avoiding his eyes. "If I know, I wouldn't be here doing nothing."

"Are you going to disappear?"

An uncomfortable silence followed. Spain didn't avert his gaze from him, nor did he move. Romano didn't either. He didn't know what answer to give, because he didn't know either.

"I don't know." He sighed finally.

The next moment, he was pulled into the warm embrace of the Spaniard. Spain ran a hand through his hair gently, being careful with the curl. Romano let him, for once didn't complain or pull away. He inhaled the familiar smell of tomato and ocean and laundry, letting himself to be taken back to that day, in the familiar house that could be called his childhood home. And he knew that he was safe. In Spain's embrace he would be, he didn't need to be afraid that he would vanish, even if it was only for a moment.

After what felt like only seconds, he pulled away. This was his fight. He couldn't hide forever. He pushed Spain's chest gently with his hands, and said, "Go back, bastard. I have fucking work to do anyway."

Spain smiled down at him and squeezed his hand again before letting go. "_Feliz cumpleanos_, Romano." He said, smiling at the blush that started to form on the Italian's face. Romano only grumbled, and Spain laughed.

He turned around and started to walk back into the house, feeling the older man's gaze on him. When he turned around to yell at him to go home already, Spain smiled to him softly, eyes glinted with something he couldn't decipher, and said, "See you tomorrow, Romano!"

And he realized. It was faith in those eyes.

/

**_And I wanna tell you who I am_**

**_Can you help me be a man_**

**_They can't break me_**

**_As long as I know who I am_**

"Is something wrong?"

"Why should it?" Romano scowled, glancing at the quiet nation beside him.

"It shouldn't," Canada agreed. "But I know something's wrong." He added, more quietly. They were sitting on a bench in the courtyard, Canada's pet bear Kumajirou had gone playing among the flower bushes. It was the recess time for world meeting, and both of them were glad to spend the limited time with each other, even though the Italian one would never admit it.

Romano grunted. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're not good at lying, you know." Canada replies softly, a slight smile tugged his lips. But it was soon replaced with a worried frown.  
>"Are you going to disappear?"<p>

His friend was so damn good at observing, Romano cursed inwardly. But Spain had noticed too, so it must be quite obvious. Romano thanked the God that Veneziano hadn't . "I don't know."

Canada nodded slightly in understanding, but kept his gaze at his friend's face. "I won't be fine if you do."

Romano blinked and moved his gaze to the Canadian. "What the fuck are you talking about all of a sudden?"

"I know what you think," Canada said, voice still soft, never raised above the usual low tone. "You think that it would be okay if you disappear. Your brother would be, Spain-san would be."

"Are you an esper or what?" Romano grunted, averting his gaze to the courtyard, pretending to watch the polar bear trying to catch butterflies. "What makes you so damn sure anyway?"

"I'm not an esper," Canada replied. "But somehow I can read what's in your mind. We haven't been friends for no reason. I'm sure you'll know mine too."

"I'm not fucking sure about that," Romano put his hand on his knee and rested his chin on it. "And it's not like thinking like that will make me give up. If they want me to disappear, I won't get down that easily."

Canada smiled on that, softly and relieved, but also concerned. "You'll fight, right?"

"I always am." Romano rose from his seat. "Come on, the recess's over."

Canada nodded and stood up as well, waving to his polar bear to come. "Hey, Romano?"

The Italian stopped on his way to the door and turned to see him, eyebrow raised.

"Don't disappear."

South Italy was silent for a moment. Then he replied, tone firm. "I won't."

/

**_And I want a moment to be real_**

**_Wanna touch things I don't feel_**

**_Wanna hold on and feel I belong_**

**_And how can the world want me to change_**

**_They're the ones that stay the same_**

**_They don't know me_**

**'_Cuz I'm not here_**

It started to get harder for him to stay awake. When he got into his bed at night, he didn't even have the energy to do his usual routine. It was more difficult to wake him up in the morning, Veneziano had to shake him for 5 full minutes once. He still did his work, did chores around the house, and went to town to do grocery. But his brother had forbid him to do the last one after he had passed out on the doorway one time.

When they did their paperworks, it took effort for him not to slump into his desk and just sleep. He could feel Veneziano's worried glance at him every several minutes.

He hated it, and he was angry. If he was going to disappear, just make it quick. He didn't want to drag anyone down with his state. The anger just made him more determined in doing work and tried to spend his day awake.

But he didn't miss the way his body turned transparent more often than before. Veneziano had noticed too, and Romano could see the fear in his eyes. He didn't know though why the younger Italian stayed silent and didn't ask.

_/  
><em>

**_They can't tell me who to be_**

**'_Cuz I'm not what they see_**

**_Yeah, the world is still sleeping while I keep on dreaming for me_**

**_And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe_**

But he knew he had reached his limit. That one day that he thought might be his last, he was awakened in his brother's arms. A bit dizzy, he looked up to meet a pair of hazel eyes so identical to his own. His brother's eyes was full of worry and fear, and fresh tears sprung from them as soon as he saw him awake.

"Fratello!" He cried out, and Romano was surprised when the younger Italian pulled him into a hug.

"I'm fine, Veneziano." He managed to say, hating how his voice was weak and unsteady, filled with sleepiness.

"You're not," Veneziano croaked. "Please don't give up, fratello."

He wondered how Veneziano managed to know, but he replied sleepily, "I won't, idiot."

Yes, he had promised himself that he would never give up. He had indirectly promised both Spain and Canada too. But even the strongest of person could be tired. Romano wasn't the strongest of a person, he admitted bitterly, and he was exhausted. He was exhausted, fighting a battle that he didn't know whether he would have the chance to win or not. And he was scared that he might have been lying to himself, that he actually had the right to exist. If he, by any chance, won the battle and kept existing as South Italy, then what benefit would people get from him?

They said, no, his brother said that both of them made one Italy. But it had seemed like just pretty words to him. Veneziano just wanted to make him feel better. Because if it was true, he wouldn't be like this right now.

And who said that the unification made Italy as a whole, no longer north and south? That was even more pathetic than pretty words. People could see very well that there were still terms like "North people" and "South people", how "South Italy" was poor among the flourished "North Italy", and how those government "attempts" didn't bear any fruit.

Why did he keep fighting anyway? Fighting and breaking yourself apart, mending it and standing up again to continue the battle, and then after you've won, what?

"Fratello?" Veneziano's tears fell down to his face and his voice was shaky. "Please say something."

He hesitated, but he could no longer hold it inside. "I'm tired, Vene." He felt the lump in his throat was released and tears formed in his eyes.

"I know," Veneziano whispered, blinking away more tears.

"I don't even know why I'm still doing this." Romano lifted his hand and covered his face with his palm, wiping the tears with his wrist. He hated it when he became weak and self-pitying like this.

"D-Don't say that," His brother hiccuped. "I-It's okay if you're tired. I'll let you sleep, but please promise me you'll wake up, fratello. Don't give up."

"As long as you stop crying..." Romano replied, feeling his eyes getting heavier each seconds. He know it might be his last.

"I w-will. I will, fratello. S-so, promise me." Veneziano weeped, shaking his brother lightly to keep him awake.

But Romano had already closed his eyes and relaxed in his arms.

/

**_And I want a moment to be real_**

**_Wanna touch things I don't feel_**

**_Wanna hold on and feel I belong_**

**_And how can the world want me to change_**

**_They're the ones that stay the same_**

**_I'm the one now_**

**'_Cuz I'm still here_**

Veneziano had managed to take his sleeping brother to their room and put him down on their shared bed. He tucked him safely under the blanket and arranged the pillows to make sure he was comfortable. Veneziano did all of that silently, gently. He wiped his tears with his sleeves and when he was done, he sat down on the bedside, taking his brother's hand in his own. After a moment of silent, studying his brother's peaceful sleeping face, he spoke up.

"Fratello, you won't disappear. That I promise you."

He paused, listening to the steady breath and watching his brother's chest heaved up and down with each one. "They can try to dissolve you, but you won't disappear. Because I've told you, right?" He smiled softly. "Both of us make one Italy. You might not believe me. And you might question your own existence, but fratello,"

His brother didn't even stir. But Veneziano was glad. That meant he was having a good sleep he really needed.

"I'll only tell you this once. As long as the capital of Italy is Rome, you won't cease to exist. You'll keep living, along with me."

Veneziano squeezed his brother's hand gently, taking the comfort in the warmth of it. "That's why both of us ARE Italy, not just me."

Wind blew gently outside and trees rustled. It was silent in the room, but the younger Italian wasn't worried. He placed his brother's hand back on his side and rose to his feet, smiling down gently at his sleeping figure. "I'll be back in a moment, okay? I just need to make a call. Until then," He bent down and planted a kiss on his brother's forehead. "Sleep well, fratello. Sweet dreams."

/

**_I'm the one_**

**'_Cuz I'm still here_**

**_I'm still here_**

**_I'm still here_**

"_Buon compleanno, _fratello!" Veneziano greeted him with a flying hug the moment he entered the kitchen, sending both of them to the floor with a loud thud and string of curses from the older Italian. He only giggled at that, until Romano smacked his head.

"Don't fucking do that again! That's dangerous, bastard!"

"Ve… But fratellooo….." Veneziano whined, rubbing his head. "It's our birthday and I want to hug you!"

"How are they even related?" Romano grumbled. "Get off me, you're heavy." He stood up as soon as his brother shifted, and offered his hand to help him up.

One year.

One year had passed since then and he was still here, still breathing, still alive. No longer sleepy-filled days and transparent figure. Everything was back to normal. Work was still piled up like usual, but his superior no longer mentioned about his problem with two personifications of his nation.

Romano still wondered even now, why he had managed to live, how he had still been able to wake up that day, eyes wide and body felt light from his sound sleep, with his brother slept beside him, smiling in his sleep like always and had his hand in his. He never got his answer, and he didn't have the courage to ask. He took comfort in the fact that he was still alive and his brother's promise that he would never disappear.

Germany, Japan, Spain, and Canada came later that morning. Veneziano soon covered the flustered Germany in a tight hug and did group hug by pulling Japan in.

Seeing him, both Spain and Canada smiled.

"Happy birthday," The quiet Canadian said, voice soft and his tone happy. He let his polar bear get down and go out to play in the yard and gave Romano a handshake, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm really happy you're here."

The Italian squeezed his hand back and managed a small, but genuine smile. "Thanks."

Canada glanced at Spain and pulled his hand away, smiling. "I'll go wish Italy-san happy birthday." And he walked away, leaving the two of them by themselves.

Spain smiled brightly to him, beaming, "_Feliz cumpleanos,_ Romano! It's been a year again, eh?"

Romano glared at him. "Stupid bastard. What do you mean by that?" And in a moment, he was in Spain's arms. And just like that time, he let it, didn't pull away or struggle. The older man nuzzled his face into his hair and whispered.

"You've been fighting, haven't you?"

Romano blinked, biting his lower lip and feeling his eyes sting. Spain laughed softly into his hair, and said.

"I'm so proud of you, Romano." He kissed the top of his head. "It'll be okay from now on."

And South Italy let his tears fall, warm and relieved and genuinely happy, and for the first time after centuries, he let his body relaxed and buried his face in the Spaniard's chest.

**_I'm still here_**

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

This is meant to be a birthday fic for Romano (and Italy), but it came out kinda late. Still, I want to say Happy Birthday Veneziano and Romano! ^^

This fic's title is taken from a video at Youtube using this song.

Constructive criticisms are always welcomed.

Thank you for reading :D


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